Grief is...

Not being able to sleep in your own bed because you were never supposed to sleep alone there again and even LOOKING at it makes you sick.

Not being able to cook because it's a worthless effort without him to eat with you.

Not showering for five days because it's just too much effort.

Having absolutely no idea how to survive every day, because every day feels unsurvivable.

Bursting into tears because your back itches and you have to scratch it yourself.

Being unable to throw away his razor and his toothbrush, even though you know he's never going to use them again.

Using his bath soap and wearing his clothes just so you can smell him.

Seeing your happily coupled friends sharing stupid Facebook "have your partner answer these questions" games and feeling like you've been punched in the gut, because you can't do that anymore, because you don't HAVE a partner anymore.

Considering the possibility of reaching out to a medium out of pure desperation to talk to him again, even though you know most of them are full of shit.

Desperately asking anyone - even strangers - for some advice that helps, but nothing does, because the only thing that would help.

Realizing that you spent several years building a life of your own so that you would be a happy and fulfilled empty-nester instead of turning into a stereotypical crazy old cat lady when your son moved out - and managing to do just that, only to end up being exactly the crazy old cat lady you never wanted to be anyway.

Buying every book about grief you can find and trying to plow through them in a desperate attempt to find some glimmer of hope, but finding none.

Knowing that your life is over, and you're forced to spend the rest of your days in misery, with nothing but silence, and loneliness, and skin hunger, and sleepless nights, and no appetite, and more tears than you ever thought you could cry, and terror to keep you company.

A fire that burns away everything you've worked so hard to become, leaving nothing but destruction in its place.